


How far would I go, How far have I already gone

by Atlanta_Black



Series: And it's fucked up, but I'm falling verse [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M, Nightmares, POV Ron Weasley, Ron has opinions, Trauma, because what the fuck really, but just trust me, but seem to be coming anyways, he's going through a lot okay, hints at things to come, it's gonna be great, poly trio number two for the win, the trio literally no one saw coming, things I didn't know where coming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-27 02:38:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21111311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atlanta_Black/pseuds/Atlanta_Black
Summary: There are things they don't tell you when you're younger. Things so rare that they just don't feel that it's relevant for a child to know.Which on one hand, he can understand. On the other hand, Ron's life seems to be specifically designed to throw all of the unknown, unspoken things directly at him.For example, they never tell you that one day you’ll have to stand and watch your best friend, your brother in all but blood, walk into a forest to die and there will be nothing you can do....that introspective Ron Weasley fic that no one expectedpart three in the And It's fucked up, but I'm falling verse





	How far would I go, How far have I already gone

**Author's Note:**

> supriseeeeeeeeeee, there's a part three!
> 
> We still haven't left the clearing in the forest but we're working on it. 
> 
> There is absolutely going to be a part four although I don't know if it will follow this directly. There will probably be a part five at this rate tbh
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

There are things they don't tell you when you're younger. Things so rare that they just don't feel that it's relevant for a child to know. 

Which on one hand, he can understand. On the other hand, Ron's life seems to be specifically designed to throw all of the unknown, unspoken things directly at him. 

For example, they never tell you that one day you’ll have to stand and watch your best friend, your brother in all but blood, walk into a forest to die and there will be _ nothing _ you can do. 

They don't tell you he'll come back from the dead, eyes still bright and with a gift from death. 

They don't tell you that death gifts baby dark lords to people or that your little sister will run into the arms of the man who almost murdered her.

Maybe he's being unfair. He's always known that Ginny was haunted by the events in the chamber in ways that only Harry seemed to understand. 

Has always known that she still woke up sobbing because Tom fucking Riddle wouldn't leave her dreams. There had been multiple times when she had woken up and crawled into his bed, shaking with sobs. Shaking with a grief so deep that he couldn't even begin to fathom it. 

_He watches Harry walk into the forest to die and thinks maybe, in that moment, he can finally understand._

She stopped coming to his room after her third year. He knew the dreams were still happening but she seemed to have taken the grief and turned it into rage. Into this driving force that kept her constantly going. 

He wishes that Harry could have done the same. Because he still woke up with tear tracks on his face and heartbreak written into every piece of his body.

.

.

.

The point is, he wasn't prepared for this. He wasn't prepared at eleven when he had to make the choice between sacrificing himself or Harry. Wasn't prepared at twelve when he heard that it was his baby sister who was stuck in a chamber that shouldn't exist. When Harry disappeared behind a pile rocks and walked off to what should have been his death. 

He remembers having nightmares for months about sitting there forever and Harry never coming back. Of Harry and Ginny dying in that chamber and of not being able to do fucking anything about it. 

He wasn't ready in third year when he dragged himself up on a broken leg and shoved himself between his best friend and Sirius Black. Wasn't prepared to have to face the idea that all three of them were going to die in a hut, under a tree and without anyone knowing where they were. 

Wasn't ready to watch his best friend, who had always been to tiny for his age, face down a dragon larger than his house. Wasn't ready to watch him spin into existence clutching the dead body of someone only a few years older than them. 

Wasn't ready for the nightmares that haunted him of Harry dying. Of Hermione dying. Of his family fucking dying. 

Sometimes he wakes up so fucking angry, wondering if his family would have been safer if he had never befriended Harry on the train. If he had looked at the too small boy, with dull green eyes and moved on to a different compartment. 

He knows they wouldn't be. Knows his parents would still have flung themselves head first into the war but merlin, sometimes he wonders. 

Finds himself looking at Harry's messy hair and Hermione's ink stained fingers and can't imagine himself anywhere else. Can’t imagine a world where it’s every anyone next to his side but the two of them. 

Wonders to himself sometimes, what he would sacrifice for the two of them. What he's willing to give up to keep them safe.

He tries not to dwell on it too long. Isn't sure he'll like the answers that he'll get. Hopes he _ never _ has to find out. 

.

.

.

.

There are things they don't tell you. 

They whisper myths to you in the guise of bedtime stories. Murmur about soulmates, about there is _ always always _ someone out there for you.

Once upon a time he took comfort in that. Before he realized exactly what it was causing Harry and Ginny so much pain. Sure, he had Hermione. They had each other. They had —

But he doesn't know how he feels about a blessing, a curse, that will tie you to the person who tried to kill you. 

Harry is staring at Riddle with excitement and hope clear in his eyes. Ginny's cheeks are flushed with happiness and her eyes are clearer than they have been in a very long time. But he doesn't like it. Doesn't think it's right. 

He knows. Knows they didn't see each other in the mirror. Knows that they love each other despite that but it's not fair. Why was Ron given two, given _ them _, but fate couldn't find it in herself to let Harry and Ginny have each other. Even if they had to still have Riddle, they could have had each other too.

.

.

.

There are things they don't tell you. Probably wouldn't tell you even if you asked. 

No had told him at sixteen he would follow his best friend into the ministry. Would wake up with scars wrapping around his arms, a reminder that he hadn't been able to defend himself. A reminder that he hadn't been there to try and spare Harry from more fucking pain. 

_In an older time following someone into battle was a declaration of unending loyalty. A declaration that you would stand by them no matter what. That knowledge still lingers at the back of his brain. _

There had been something wild hiding in Harry's eyes after that. He had wondered briefly if that was it. If that was the turning point. The point where Harry just gave up and they ended up with another dark lord on their hands. He still wonders if Dumbledore had any idea how thin the line Harry walks really is. 

Had wondered what he would do, how far he would follow before he said no more. Wondered how far he was really willing to go for his friend. How many lines he was willing to cross. Would he turn his back on his family? Would he turn his back on the light? 

He still doesn't know. Still isn't convinced they're not going to one day hit a point where he has to find out. His only comfort is knowing that Hermione will be there by his side for it. He thinks sometimes that she’s already made a decision on how far she’s willing to go. Isn’t sure the idea of turning back has ever even occurred to her. 

.

.

.

Hermione is arguing with Riddle about their plan. She thinks that it's the height of stupidity to let Riddle just waltz out there looking like himself. Thinks it's even stupider to listen to a plan thought up by Lucius fucking Malfoy. She bristles when she says that, hair crackling with magic and threatening to escape from the braid hanging down her back. Riddle is staring at her bemusedly. Clearly unused to be told that his plans were stupid. 

He can see Harry eyeing him worredly from where he's standing, talking with Ginny. He pretends he doesn't see, turns his gaze toward Malfoy. 

He's managed to sit up, face drawn and tired. He keeps glancing at Riddle with this perplexed, baffled look on his face. Ron can't even blame him for that bit. He supposes it is a pretty baffling situation for someone who is missing pretty much all of the details. Ron can however, blame him for being an awful human being. His skin is itching with the desire to just punch Malfoy in the face. 

They had followed Ginny down to the clearing and had been here for the entire thing. Had listened as Harry promised Malfoy that he would protect Narcissa and Draco. 

He rolls his shoulders, pops his neck, cracks his knuckles. Merlin, he knows why Harry did it. Doesn't know if he's thankful. 

_Wonders if Draco had dropped to the ground screaming when the rest of the death eaters had. Hates that the image burns on the back of his eyelids every time he blinks._

He breathes out, catches Hermione's eyes when she glances back towards him. She grimaces at the look on his face, cuts off mid sentence. Riddle’s face scrunches up, both offended and relieved at once. He looks like he’s going to say something but Ginny walks up at the same moment and his attention gravitates to her. 

Hermione turns and moves back over to him, shooting a glare at Malfoy as she passes. He still remembers the way she had gone eerily still when Bellatrix dropped to the ground. The way she had squeezed his hand so tight he had thought she was going to break it. Remembers the triumphant, vicious light that had lit up her entire face. 

It almost makes him understand what Ginny and Harry see in Riddle. Almost. Because Merlin, she had been beautiful in her anger, in her satisfaction at the bitches death. 

He knows that Bellatrix's death is a large reason that she isn't as upset as she otherwise would have been. Is the reason she hadn’t cursed Riddle first and asked questions second. 

She comes to a stop in front of him, peers up at him, lips pursed. "I'm sure he's fine." she murmurs, voice hushed. 

"I don't much care either way." he says, voice flat. Breathes in slowly, refuses to curl his hands into fists. 

She sighs, lips turned down. "You do. We both know you do." she hesitates, tugs at the end of her braid. "I am. Worried that is." 

He stares, swallows around the lump sitting in his throat. Rolls his shoulders again before he reaches out to rub at the dirt streaking across her cheeks. "You've got something on your face." he says, quirks his lips at the annoyed huff that leaves her mouth. 

She smacks his hand away, smiles softly at him.

"Alright, we need to go." she announces, turning away from him. "Eventually people are going to come looking for us. So we need to go." 

Riddle's mouth thins. He's not sure which part of the announcement had irked him. Whether it was because he wasn't the one giving orders or if it was Hermione herself who bothered him. 

For Riddle's sake he hopes it's the first one. No matter how happy Harry is that Riddle is alive and intact, he won't tolerate Riddle having an issue with Hermione.

.

.

.

There are things they don't tell you. 

Like how you'll wake up on your seventeenth birthday miles away from your two best friends. How you'll wake up with the knowledge that you left them all alone sitting heavy in your chest. 

He had known since he was sixteen that it was going to be Hermione he saw in the mirror. Had this bone deep certainty that she was it for him.

Wonders how much longer it'll take him to stop fucking up. To stop hurting her. To stop hurting Harry. 

He had sat in front of the mirror, guilt still eating away at him but he hadn't been uncertain on who he was going to see. He knew that Hermione had acted off for a bit after her birthday. But with everything else going on he had chalked it up to her just being surprised the myth was real. 

He should have known better really. Should have known that she had never doubted the myth. 

He's sitting on his bed, staring at himself in the mirror. Takes note of the dark circles under his eyes, of how his skin is still a little too pale. Finds himself wondering absently if Hermione and Harry are thinking of him. Hopes that they are, hopes that they aren't. Wonders how many more times he can fuck up before they give up on him completely. 

He misses them so much it fucking hurts. Feels like his chest is trying to cave in from the guilt and anger and fear. 

He's so caught up in the pain that he almost misses it. 

The mirror flickers. Ripples as if there's water caught in the glass. His breath catches and he tilts forward, on the edge of the bed. He’s spent his entire life waiting for this moment. 

He sees her first, hair a riot around her head and her eyes warm. Feels the pain of missing her lodge in the back of his throat.

Then he sees _ him _. The mirror flickers again, ripples. And suddenly, where had once been just Hermione, stands another person beside her. One he recognizes all too well. 

"No." the word rips out of him. "No, no, no." 

He wants to say that he doesn't know him. Wants to say that he's seeing things. But fuck, he'd know that hair anywhere. Would know that fucking smirk and that upturned nose if it was pitch dark in a crowded room. 

He laughs. Watches their images shimmer away. Laughs, reaches out blindly, grabs the lantern near his bed and hurls it at the mirror. Laughs until he cries, until his ribs hurt with more than just the phantom pain from missing them. 

He wonders what he had done in a past life to deserve this.

Wonders what he could have possible done to deserve Draco fucking Malfoy as a soulmate.

  
  
  



End file.
